I’m not the type of insomniac who goes days without sleep, although I know people who do struggle with that, and my heart goes out to them. My insomnia is more about staying asleep—once I’m out, I can rarely manage more than a few hours at a time. As a 34-year-old, I can’t recall a single night of uninterrupted slumber.
Before I became a parent, my nights were often spent wandering through a dimly lit house, catching up on reading or binge-watching shows until sleep finally found me. Nowadays, with three little ones running around, my nightly rest has dwindled to about three to four hours. While it’s manageable occasionally, the relentless cycle over the years can be exhausting.
Living as an insomniac parent feels like being in a constant state of disarray. I often wake in the wee hours for no apparent reason, only to find my kids waking up moments later, either in need of water or seeking comfort after a nightmare. As a parent dealing with insomnia, you’re caught in a limbo—never fully awake, yet not truly asleep. You drift through life in a haze, barely focusing, while the thought of sleep lingers perpetually in your mind like a mirage just out of reach.
When my first child was born, he would only sleep for two-hour stretches, and the only way he would settle was if I cradled him like a football. My partner and I divided our nighttime duties, but even during my designated time, I’d find myself staring at the ceiling, unable to drift off. I was in college at the time and often dozed off in class, hallways, and even on buses, waking in unfamiliar places.
The toughest part of being a sleep-deprived parent is that your children often mirror your insomnia. Coming from a family with a legacy of insomniacs and narcoleptics, I know that while it’s statistically unlikely for all three of my kids to inherit this, their sleep struggles feel like a genetic curse.
Caffeine has become my lifeline throughout the day, helping me function despite knowing it might exacerbate my insomnia. I often blame my kids for my tired appearance, masking the truth of my sleepless nights. But that’s a double-edged sword; it opens the door to judgment from those who believe poor sleep habits stem from bad parenting. It’s frustrating, yet my exhaustion often leaves me too drained to argue back.
As I write this, fighting to keep my head from dipping forward, I can’t help but think about my two-year-old daughter, who kept me up for two hours last night, squirming and restless. I understand her struggles as I’ve faced the same battle my entire life. While I long for her to find sleep, I remind myself she isn’t alone in this journey. Insomnia can feel isolating, a never-ending trial of patience and frustration, waiting for rest that feels elusive.
However, reflecting on these sleepless nights, I’ve realized my children have injected meaning into the dark hours. There were times when, as a college student and bartender, I barely saw my kids. Those late-night wake-ups became precious opportunities to resolve their issues, hold them close, or hear the sweet words, “I love you, Daddy.” Despite my fatigue, I cherish the memory of my son gripping my arm after a nightmare or the satisfaction of tucking my daughter back under her quilt at 2 a.m.
In those quiet moments, I feel important. I feel needed. Those late-night awakenings are often my only chance to be more than just a paycheck for my family.
So to all the sleepless parents out there, I salute you. Your willingness to sacrifice precious hours of sleep for the sake of your children truly marks you as the most devoted parents. The reality is that surrendering whatever little sleep you can snag when your little ones need you showcases a remarkable dedication.
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In summary, being an insomniac parent is a challenging, often isolating experience, but it also offers moments of connection and purpose in the darkest hours.